No Need For Words
by The Great NeoDragon
Summary: A lonely Kevin Mask ponders about his former relationship with Eskara, and his developing one with Croe. Croe's POV Added
1. Kevin's POV

No Need For Words

You would think that a moment of quiet serenity would bring peace to a turbulent heart, would you not? And you would think that sitting upon the soft leather cushioning in Croe's comfortable if not modest establishment, watching the peaceful dance of the flames in the fireplace would feel homely, would you not? You would. You're a normal chap. Your home was not a prison, ruled by a dictator clad in an iron mask. Your mother did not abandon you, nor did your Uncle...if Warsman could really be called as such. 

You had a home to compare this feeling to.

Human beings, despite their want to be social creatures, are fundamentally and ultimately alone. 

This type of domestic atmosphere only serves to remind me of just _how_ alone I really am. During my country long rides and moments in the limelight, I can forget the painful reality of life as simply as casting aside an unwanted object. But in the silence and tranquility such as this, my mind disobediently begins to wander...

Back in the days of the DmP, when I would get into this mindset Eskara would come in and we'd...

When I was just a boy, I had been told that sex was a marvelous thing. Something along the lines of sharing your soul or making love or such rot. It was lies, all of it. There is nothing beautiful or sacred about sex. Eskara and I merely took what we wanted from each other, as much of it as our strength and physical prowess would allow. Yet...no matter how much I took, as we would lay there panting and covered in sweat, I was always soon realize that I still had absolutely nothing. My loneliness was only amplified, as if somehow during the procedure in trying to fill the hole in my soul I have only succeeded to enlarge it. I don't know what had compelled me to repeat the painful process with an almost masochistic vigor. Perhaps it was the hope that in some way I would find what it is I was looking for in Eskara. I never did.

He saved my life with the price that I would reveal my father's secret of the Kinnikubuster to him. I did, and sometimes I wish I had died instead.

When I left him shortly afterward, the others had tried to console me, as if the disbandment of our relationship was expected to leave me as a mere shadow of my former self. I was not distraught. I did not love him, I don't think I would know even if I did.

I feel Croe's presence nearing, even as I stared unblinking into the flames. Seeing motion in the corner of my eye, I turn my gaze to see my coach crouch down before me. There is a concerned, questioning gaze in his cobalt eyes. Perhaps my desolation was visible on my visage, as I was not plagued by any means of physical illness from which he would derive his worry. I'm not sure how even that could be, as my facial features and expression were hidden behind my famous family heirloom. Nevertheless, I don't answer his silent inquiries. I didn't want him to leave...yet at the same time, I didn't know _what_ I wanted. It is an entirely different world with Croe than it had been with Eskara. I feel a certain sense of safety with him, as if there was nothing in the world I could do that would make him leave. After abandonment at the hands of my mother and uncle, this kind of security is one that brings me immeasurable comfort. He and I have never had sex, and the mere thought of it disgusts me for reasons I can't understand. My coach is certainly not unattractive, and there are no moral boundaries that I care about enough to allow for any influence. Perhaps it is because Eskara and I had a silent alliance of mutual need. We would simply take what we wanted from each other without a care or second thought. I don't want to take anything from Croe. I never want to do anything like that to him.

For the longest time he just stares into my eyes, as if searching for something. I do not know what, and under his relentless gaze I grow uneasy. Finally, he gets up from his place on the floor and sits next to me on the couch. I look back to the fire.

Suddenly, to my surprise I feel a hand on my back and my gaze returns to my coach. Wordlessly, he leans forward and wraps his arms around my upper torso. I stiffen in his grasp, what in the world was he doing? If he was trying to initiate sex, he's going to be in for disappointment. Even in my lonesome mental state, I was too tired and sore from my day of intense overexertion. Yet...to my astonishment he did not even attempt to pursue any form of sexual activity. Instead he merely sat with his arms around me, looking into the fire that had recently held my attention.

Although I could not understand the meaning behind such a intimate motion, I must admit it felt...nice. For the moment, my desolation had eased and I could even feel my head lean back until the back of it barely touched his shoulder, my hand raising up to rest on his. In response, I felt his hold tighten just faintly and his covered cheek pressed lightly against mine. 

I do not know what he expects, nor wants, from me. What I do know is that Croe is the only person, man or woman, to stay by my side for so long and through so much. Throughout my matches and tournaments and travels and self-destructive training... For a long time I wanted to tell him how much I appreciated him, and how much his companionship really did mean to me. I never could. I can't seem to vocalize such things. In some ways I am still just like my father.

Yet...in this oddly intimate motion, the only sounds emitting from the soft cackle of the burning firewood, I came to the revelation that there was, indeed, no need for words. Loud declarations of love and loyalty were only empty words that held broken promises. It was the quiet things, the...moments like this that truly clarify the presumption of genuine fondness.

As we silently watched the flames slowly diminish into lightly glowing embers, I suddenly came to the realization that although both of us had just _given_ something into this moment...I felt as if I had lost nothing at all. 

__

Author's Note: I'm not sure if that last sentence sends the correct message I had intended. It is meant to show the greatest difference between Kevin's relationship with Eskara and his relationship with Croe. With Eskara, both parties took what they wanted and yet ended up with nothing (or at least Kevin ended up with nothing). With Croe, both parties gave something and ended up losing nothing, both coming out with the sense of fulfillment that Kevin looked for in Eskara. And all that jazz. XD Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little ficlet.

Heh, if the bug bites me I may pull a MsKinnikufan and add a chapter with Croe's POV on the matter. XD


	2. Croe's POV

No Need for Words

What is love? What defines a relationship? Is it love when care immensely for the life and welfare of another? Is a relationship simply the coexistence of two individuals? Or is it something more? When does the simply act of caring and fondness become something as complicated and powerful as love? What defines the transition from fondness to love? Despite all of the explanations and definitions I have been handed, I do not know if I will ever truly know the answer.

I have known Kevin Mask for a long time, much longer than even he believes. I took my place at his side as his coach not with the intentions of helping him to strengthen his physical prowess, despite what I had told him. No…he does not need a trainer, he trains himself hard enough already. Too hard, even. What he needs a friend, a comrade. During the course of a surprisingly large portion of his life I had watched him. Throughout perceiving his interactions with others I discovered that he is, literally, incapable of interpreting a friendship as genuine. The combination of brutally unhealthy previous relationships, and his lack of social interaction during his childhood due to his father's influence compels him to this mindset. He can only understand the purpose of relationships as being how he can use it to manipulate others, or how others would use it to manipulate him. So I offered my services to him as a coach, with the hopes of earning his trust and teaching him the true meaning of friendship.

Over the course of a few months, our companionship has become increasingly intimate. Slowly he has begun to reveal more of himself to me, some good and some not so good. Yet…it has only served to increase my genuine fondness for him. Kevin, despite the mistakes he has made and what others would believe, is a good person. There are so many little things that he does that show his gentle and compassionate nature. From placing his jacket over my shoulders during a cold winter day to rushing to the store to buy medicine whenever I was sick, his small gestures were always so very thoughtful and sincere.

Although he would never admit to it, I can see that deep inside Kevin is very lonely. I can see his despair in his golden eyes, I can feel it about him like a fog. Others can feel it too, I see, but they disregard it as something else. Arrogance, petulance… I can understand their misjudgments. They only see what he presents to the public eye. They do not see him sitting in the locker room with his head in his hands, even after a victorious match. They do not hear him cry out at night. As much as I yearn to comfort him, if I were to try, he would dismiss my efforts as having ulterior intentions. He simply cannot see it as anything else. So with a heavy heart, I retained a certain amount of aloofness even as we grew increasingly close.

It was a few months after the initiation of our relationship that I discovered how his deep-rooted loneliness and anguish had taken a physical toll. He had trained himself so severely that he completely neglected the nutritional aspect, leaving his body extremely undernourished. I tried valiantly to find a way to increase his food intake, from reminding him when to eat, to cooking only meals he had a liking for. Nothing worked. At one point, I wondered if somehow he suffered from one of those dietary ailments, such as anorexia or bulimia. However, after much research into the matter I came to the conclusion that that is not the case. Not once had Kevin ever expressed concern over his weight or physical appearance, which is a major symptom in those illnesses. With those other options nullified, I finally figured that his lack of dietary sustenance was due to his extreme overexertion. As a result, I tried to find a way to decrease the amount and severity of his training, but Kevin would hear none of it. Stubbornness has always been a Mask family trait. I eventually backed off on the matter, with the purpose that time would increase our closeness and ease his loneliness, and his masochistic style of training along with it. Never had I fancied that it would take the extreme turn it did before his first match in the chojin crown tournament.

Kevin strived to master his dormant powers, so when he said that he was going to train 'just a little bit more', I had allowed him to go off without me. Truly I should have known better. Looking upon his shriveled body, hearing the horrified gasps of the audience and feeling his ribs pressing against my side as I half-carried him to the ring, I knew something had to be done. Fortunately, he managed to call on his Maelstrom ability and save his match, giving me a chance to reverse the terrible effects of his over exertion.

I had precious little time to work with before his next match against Black Number 5 and continuously wracked my mind with possible solutions. How does one help someone who does not see a problem? A favorable resolution seemed impossible. Finally, one evening, it came to me.

I had just cooked a large meal, and Kevin had just finished a day of excessive training. After eating a very small portion, he began to excuse himself from the table when I noticed that he looked very, very sore. Apparently he had pulled his back during his exercise but was too proud to stop or say anything about it. Acting quickly, I offered to rub his back if he were to finish a larger portion of the meal. At first he looked at me as if he fancied me insane, but apparently realizing that I was serious, agreed. Thus began an almost daily ritual. He would train during most of the day, eat one (sometimes two!) relatively large meals, then I would rub his back in the evening. Not only did it help to increase his nutritional intake and decrease the overall amount of overexertion (as his nightly exercises were shortened dramatically), but also elevated the intimacy between us. It did not work all the time, but it was enough to make a change. 

Still, that alone could not relieve him of his loneliness and, as much as I wanted to, I was afraid to do anything more. If I were to get too close to him, my efforts may become counterproductive and scare him away. That was a risk I could not afford to take.

Yet now, watching him look into the blaze of my fireplace with such a lonely, desolate look in his golden eyes, I am compelled to take action. Tomorrow would be his second match against an unknown opponent. Whether he won or lost did not matter to me, I would be proud of him either way. However, despite my efforts to prove to him otherwise, Kevin had been taught to believe that his own worth was measured only by his physical attributes. As a result, a loss of such magnitude would be devastating. With this in mind, I cannot allow him to go into that match with such a depressing attitude. As his coach, as his _comrade_, I cannot allow it.

Telling him any of this would be futile. Long winded declarations of affection are nothing but empty promises that cannot be depended on. The only way to truly prove one's sincerity is by clarity of action. So, with the knowledge of the immense risk I am undertaking, I take my place behind Kevin and place my hand on his back. As he turns his head to look at me, I embrace him. I feel him stiffen in my grasp, and worry that I might have made the wrong choice. However, I do not regret my decision. If he were to be scared away from my act of affection, at the very least he will know for absolutely certainty that I do care about him. That his feelings and thoughts matter to me, and that if he needed me I would be here.

Suddenly, I feel him rest his head on my shoulder, and his hand lightly pressing against mine. I tighten my grip ever so slightly and to my amazement, I feel… something wonderful…like what people describe as a 'fluttering in their chest'. I am not entirely sure what it represents, as it is not a feeling that I am familiar with…yet I must admit, it was one that was becoming more recurrent. Is this indescribable emotion the identity of love? Does it even matter? The only thing I know for sure is that, no matter what, life will always go on…as a living being, both he and I will continue to grow, to achieve as well as to fall…and that, no matter what, whenever he falls I will be there to catch him.

__

Author's Notes: The bug hath bitten me and I was compelled to write Croe's POV of this story. Overall, I am proud of how it came out, even if it is short. Just incase you couldn't tell from the story itself, it's supposed to take place the day before Kevin's match against Blocks. So fluffy…makes me wanna hug people. =D Any further chapters are highly unlikely, but you never know! ;) Hope you enjoyed the story!


End file.
